Spawn: Rebirth
by bakatora16
Summary: Young Darryl is dead. But death is never truly the end. Follow the new Spawn and his adventure to uncover his role in the battle between heaven and hell; With the aid of Al Simmons, as well as the infamous deadpool.
1. Chapter 1

"This is the police! Come out with your hands up!" One of Philadelphia's boys in blue blared over a megaphone.

"Hi, I'm Connie Dimarco here with the current scene. I'm standing in front of the First National Bank in downtown North Philly, where three armed robbers have taken five families hostage. The police are currently trying to negotiate the robbers to release the hostages, but so far they have made zero progress. Channel five action news here, however, will remain on site until all hostages have been released." The woman speaking was dressed rather business-like. She wore a gray business suit, with a white blouse. Her tanned hands were grasped upon a microphone, while her steel-gray eyes remained focused into the camera. Her bleach blond hair swayed with the wind, as she turned to face the large white building. Twenty-five steps led up to the bank's glass, see through doors. Further inside, three men stood in a triangle formation, with a group of hostages lying upon the ground.

"I guess the cops really are just overpaid morons." A young male whispered to the female lying beside him. The male had a brown skin complexion, and a short, black buzz cut hair style. Despite his obvious African- American heritage, his dark brown eyes, which were just light enough to differ them from the color onyx, slanted upward. It, overall gave him the appearance of having Asian blood within him. He bore a light goatee on his face, and both of his ears were pierced. The male's average-looking body frame was evident, despite his baggy crimson hoodie, and black jeans. His hand was clasped around the female's hand beside him.

The female's skin was of the same brown complexion as the young males, and both appeared to be of similar age. Her body type was average as well, and she bore short black hair, with a few loose strands hanging in her light brown eyes. Her eyes were obscured slightly by her skinny, tan-rimmed glasses. Her shirt was black, and her pants matched. "Darryl, this isn't funny! I'm scared!" She whispered back to her boyfriend, and gripped his hand tighter.

"Don't be. I promise, even if it takes my last breath, I'll get you out of this." Darryl's light demeanor from his previous statement completely faded, and a brief moment of serious compassion swept over him. He then slowly revealed a smile, leaned over slightly, and planted a quick kiss upon the girl's forehead. "Ok Chelsie?" He uttered, in an attempt to reassure her.

"Yes." She seemed more at ease than she previous was, before she continued listening to the conversation the three armed men had been having.

"They have ten minutes, before we kill a hostage to show them that we mean business." One uttered just loud enough for all of the hostages to hear. Immediately, all of the hostages besides for Darryl broke into a hushed panic.

"I have a plan. Calm down." Darryl finally spoke, and the hostages immediately ceased their talking, and looked up at him. His face, no his very essence was calm. It was contagious in fact; it seemed like whenever he spoke, all of those around him were caught by his radiation of serenity. "You all see that money cart over there?" He outstretched a finger toward a large, tan cart which appeared to be used to push around large sacks of money. It had four large wheels at the bottom, and was positioned particularly close to where they were lying. "When I give the signal, everyone run towards that and jump in. Your role, Mr. Husky…" Darryl extended a finger out again, pointing to a particular bulky man this time. "…is to get in the cart last, and push off with your feet with all your might as you get in. That should push the cart back to that metal counter. That's when you guys all jump out, and hide behind the counter. I'll distract those three for you guys." Darryl's fellow captives all nodded in agreement, and prepared themselves to take off sprinting at a moment's notice.

"I don't like this! What about you?" Chelsie panicked once more, before Darryl placed his index finger upon her lips.

"Don't worry about me. It'll all work out for the best. Just make sure you're one of the first to get inside that cart." And with that, Darryl shifted himself. While the rest of the hostages were lying so that they were face first with the cart, Darryl was the opposite, instead face first with one of the armed men. "Go!" Darryl cried out, as he took off running toward the closest armed man. He had just fully faced Darryl, when he realized that Darryl was already upon him. The man, like his two associates, had been wearing all black sweat suits, boats, and gloves. Their heads had been obscured by large, black helmets with glass visors. The reason for this was to conceal their identities. The man aimed his Ak-47 at Darryl, but before he could squeeze the trigger, Darryl had used his right forearm to push the man's left arm upward. The result was the entire gun lifting upward to face the ceiling. After the twelve rounds fired into the ceiling, Darryl grabbed the man's left wrist, and brought it down hard, while simultaneously raising his right knee into the elbow of the man's left arm. The result was a sickening snap, followed by the man's wail of pain flooding the ears of everyone in the immediate area, including the cops and news crews outside. The man fell to his knees, as his left arm dangled freely as though it were a leaf in the wind, and his weapon dropped to the floor. With one swift kick to the man's back, he fell face first into the ground, and remained there.

Darryl turned his head, to see the hostage's heads peeping from behind the metal counter. "Safe…" He thought to himself, as he turned his sights on the second armed man, whom was directly in front of him. He had been raising his Ak-47 up, and the furthest man from him, whom resided on his left, had already taken aim at him. Darryl pushed off his right foot hard, just in time for the six shots that the man furthest from him had fired to slam into the wall behind him. The result of Darryl's push, was him sprinting toward the man directly in front him, whom by now had his weapon raised and finger resting on the trigger. With the finesse of a major league baseball player, Darryl slid feet first on the ground, as shots flung past his head and into the wall on the other side of the room. Darryl's slide continued until he was directly in front of the man, where he then used his right hand to lift himself up off the ground, while slinging his right foot. He kicked up the man's weapon while he landed from his flip onto his feet. While the man was defenseless, Darryl cocked his right fist back, and placed his entire body weight into a punch toward the visor of the man. His fist crashed through the glass, and placed a heavy punch upon the man's forehead. As he stumbled back, Darryl placed another punch while not as powerful, was nearly twice as quick into the man's neck. His fist careened into the man's Adam's apple, as he dropped gasping for air.

With no time to pause, Darryl took a diagonal path toward the last man. He then quickly and suddenly barreled right when the man began firing his weapon. A stray bullet slammed into Darryl's side, which although momentarily decreased his speed, didn't stop him completely. The man backed up, while Darryl cut hard to continue traveling toward him. Once he had backed up enough so that there was a white pillar separating Darryl and himself, the man began to take aim again. However, Darryl simply used the pillar as a spring board, and was now flying straight for the man. A few more shots rang out, which slammed into Darryl's shoulders. They weren't enough to stop his kinetic energy and halt his movement, but they did manage to make Darryl go into a spiral. Darryl grabbed the man, and continued his midair spiral, now taking the man along for the ride. With all his might, and with a mighty battle cry, Darryl slammed the man headfirst into a wall and caused him to be stuck there.

Darryl landed on the ground, and looked up with just enough time to notice that the man had dropped a greenish, orb-ish object which had landed close to where the hostages positioned themselves. "…Grenade?!" Darryl cried out, as he took off in a mad dive. The sheer adrenaline which had been coursing through Darryl's veins was more than enough to cause him to ignore his bullet wounds, and focus solely on the grenade which was seconds from going off. With his right hand, he grabbed the grenade and pulled it in tightly into his body, as though it was a football and he was preventing a fumble. He placed himself into a ball, while the grenade rested dead center at his body against his stomach. "This is going to hurt…" Darryl thought, as he braced himself for impact, and his mind went blank while the bank was consumed with a large bang.

"And with the situation finally resolved, only one causality was the result. With the men in custody, we pay tribute to the young male whom sacrificed himself to save the others whom were captured. The young, eighteen year old Darryl…" Connie's report was cut off, by the sound of sobbing, as his girlfriend was being carried out of the bank by three police officers.

"No! He can't be! Let me go! Let me the fuck go!" Her cries were then, in turn cut off by a mid-40's couple, whom had pushed past the police in tears. Both the male and female dropped to their knees and let their anguish overtake them.

"That's my son! That's my boy!" The male, Darryl's father cried out. The female, Darryl's mother, had been reduced to a hysterical mess.

Red flames licked at Darryl's skin, as his eyes opened to his surroundings. He had been standing on a rocky platform, while peering green, ghoulish eyes surrounded him. He sniffed very quickly, before brimstone and burning skin engulfed his nose. "Hell? Oh, come on! I mean sure, I might have had premarital sex but who hasn't! Not cool man, not cool. I cry mistrial, mistrial I say! I want a panel of judges, not just god this time. Get me Simon Cowell, get me Randy Jackson, and get me Paula Abdul! I promise, my life has not been absolutely dreadful!" Once Darryl realized where he was, he began verbally assaulting the environment, and was distraught with his current situation.

"Silence." Darryl turned toward the deep, booming voice. He then found himself face to face with an elderly looking man. He bore a black trench coat, with matching pants and round-brim hat. His piercing red eyes looked down upon Darryl, while is long, white beard hung down to his navel. White, curly hair stuck out from his hat, and the look on his face was serious and stern.

"Look, Mr. Satan, I think this is some type of mistake. I mean, I sacrificed myself for others, do I really belong here?" The man chuckled a bit, before opening his crusted lip mouth.

"As flattering as that may be, I'm nowhere near Satan's level of power. He resides on the last level of hell. Here, you are within the eighth circle of hell. And my name is Cogliostro, but you may know me as Cain. And you are correct; you aren't supposed to be here. However, I have an offer for you. You can either, ascend into heaven where you belong, provided you withstand the trials of purgatory, or you can accept my challenge and return to the mortal plane with the power to protect."

"And just what do I have to protect anymore?" Darryl had been mostly at peace with his death, now that his loved one would be safe.

"Oh, she isn't safe Darryl." Reading Darryl's thoughts, Cain began to explain to Darryl of the syndicate that the three men had belonged to. He also explained how once someone from their syndicate was captured, killed, or arrested, the rest would be sure to destroy every connection to that person, which now included Darryl's girlfriend, mother, father, sister, and whomever else they could find.

"Then tell me, what do I have to do?" Darryl knew that no matter what, he had to protect them.

"Fight in a tournament. If you win, I will turn you into a hell spawn. However, if you lose, I will have no choice but to condemn you to the life of a demon." Cain offered the ultimatum to Darryl. With no thought, Darryl immediately replied: "I accept."


	2. Chapter 2

Darryl's fist smashed into a demon's face, sending him flying off the rocky ledge they had been standing on. The demon screamed in agony, as the pinkish-skinned creature descended into the fire below him. An obvious change had occurred in Darryl. The shirtless warrior's body type, which before his death had merely been of an average, stocky body frame was now significantly slimmer and toned. He wasn't overly bulky, but rather had more defined muscles. His facial expression had also made a drastic change. Instead of being calming, and full of the serenity that previously eluded him, it had shifted to a fierce expression that trained warriors, mercenaries, and assassins often bore. His eyes narrowed, as Darryl took out two more demons with a spinning kick.

Atop a higher platform, Cogliostro watched in particular interest. A taller, blue skinned demon had walked up beside the overlord of the 8th circle of hell. The demon was particularly tall and muscular, and bore only a black loincloth. He bore one pointy horn on his forehead, and long talon's for fingers. His piercing red eyes looked down at Darryl, whom by this point had already taken out an additional twelve demons, and then back at Cogliostro. "Is this really necessary? You already planned on choosing him to be the next spawn either way." The demon's voice was deep and raspy.

"Yes and no. I do plan on having him become spawn regardless of the outcome, but this is necessary. Darryl was too calm, too soft, too naïve to survive the tortures of life as spawn. He needed this change, this emotional warfare to prepare him for the battle against heaven." Cogliostro's eyes never left the battlefield below; his eyes zoomed in on Darryl. He had managed to bob and weave his way between demons, and take out ten of them with one strike each. Cogliostro couldn't help but grin, before continuing his speech. "And he has made drastic improvements in the past two weeks. The nonstop fighting has made him stronger, faster, and even has battle strategies have improved." Darryl had managed to use another demon's claw to take out an opponent which had attempted to attack him from behind. "As you can see." Cogliostro pointed to the scene which had just took place as proof towards the validity of his claim.

"You may be right. But the more this goes on, the more he loses a piece of himself. Will he still be willing to protect the people he cares about if that happens? After all, your plan in awakening his true powers depends on that." Darryl's fierce battle cry cut the demon off, as he took out several demons at once. The once mighty army that had been attacking Darryl had been reduced to a dozen frightened remnants.

"Darryl will still protect her. His main purpose for accepting this trial was to gain enough power to keep her safe. Both, us in hell and the ones in heaven both have great faith resting on Darryl to fulfill his destiny. But with the negative emotions flowing through his mind, he'll never tap into his heavenly powers, and instead will be content with using the hellish powers that are locked within him. And he will become our greatest asset in our fight. We might have lost Al Simmons, but he has the potential to be even greater!" No sooner than Cogliostro had finished his sentence, had Darryl taken out the last of his opponents.

"Yo, Cain!" Darryl shouted, while pointing his finger upward in order to further grasp Cogliostro's attention. "If you have any more of these little bitches you want me to smack around, bring them down here! Otherwise, give me what's mine." His voice had seemed more…sinister than previous.

"You heard the man. You're on." Cogliostro waved the large demon away. The blue demon jumped down and landed with a large crash in front of Darryl.

"Whoa. Ok, I guess it's time to fight big momma bitch." Darryl's eyes narrowed upon the large demon. A sword, a Chinese Dao specifically, also fell in front of him. Without question, Darryl picked the blade up and gripped it tightly within his right hand. He held it out directly in front of him, and with a grin, used his right hand to stick his middle finger up toward the demon. He then curled it toward him twice, giving the "bring it on" gesture. The large demon roared, and then charged toward Darryl.

The demon swung its claw downward at Darryl, whom responded by quickly tumbling backwards. The claw slammed into the ground and Darryl quickly returned to his feet and sprung forward. With one swing of his sword, he landed a cut upon the demon's arm. "That should have ripped your arm off." Darryl muttered under his breath, before being smacked in the stomach with the full force of the demon's right fist. Darryl soared through the sky, before crashing into the ground and quickly springing to his feet. Darryl then wiped the blood off his lip, and charged once more. Dodging all of the demon's attempts at clawing Darryl, he drove the sword into the demon's stomach with a mighty thrust. The demon roared in pain slightly, before grabbing Darryl's sides with both arms. He lifted Darryl up, and due to Darryl's tight grip upon the sword, removed the sword from his stomach. The demon then slammed Darryl into the ground face first. Darryl briefly lay upon the ground, before quickly springing up and swinging his sword backwards, into the demon's side with his left arm. However, the demon simply caught the blade with his right hand, and used his left claw to slice clean through Darryl's left. He screamed in agony, as he dropped to the ground. Darryl's arm dropped beside him, releasing the blade in a dull metal clang.

"Oh, isn't that a shame. Well maybe next time –"The demon was cut off, as Darryl quickly grabbed the sword's black handle in his right hand. With a quick, rising slash, Darryl managed to decapitate the demon from the neck up. Darryl rose to his feet, as both his left arm and the demon's head lay on the ground next to him. The demon's headless body simply stood in place, twitching a bit but nonetheless still standing.

"Next time, you should do more than this insignificant scratch before you assume the battle is over. " Blood sprouted from the demon's neck and began falling downward upon Darryl and the ground. Cogliostro clapped his hands, before rising to his feet.

"Congratulations are in order. The next step now, is to accept your power and train with it in order to fulfill your destiny. But we should do something about that nasty wound first." And with those words, Darryl's left arm sprang up and reconnected itself to Darryl's torso, much to his shock. He began moving it wildly to be sure his motor skills hadn't suffered, but was then consumed with necroplasm. Once the green swirling energy had faded, Darryl stood consumed by a costume. He bore black pants and shoes, with a copper belt. The belt, which was actually simple chains encircling his waist, bore a skull for a belt buckle. While his arms and torso were also covered in black cloth, white streaks in a v like pattern had dwelled on his chest, and descended down his arms. A black mask covered him, along with white stripes on each side. Finally, along with Darryl's glowing green eyes, he also bore a crimson cloak-like cape. It draped over his shoulders and hung to the floor, where its ends were tattered. "And now, we train until your moment arrives."


	3. Chapter 3

"One more time!" Cogliostro stood glaring at Darryl, with a proud grin upon his face. Darryl stood the opposite of him, as if they were staring each other down. Although he bore his spawn costume, his mask hadn't been pulled over his face. This showed the multiple scratches and bruises to be placed into plain sight. His light brown, Asian-styled eyes narrowed upon Cogliostro, and a small grin had appeared upon his face. The wounds on his face emitted a small amount of steam, before sealing themselves and disappearing completely. The pupils and iris of his eyes then completely vanished, leaving only the whites remaining. The white's of his eyes then slowly began to glow a vibrant green, as his flowing crimson cape began to flail as if it were left in the wind. He reached his raven colored right hand and placed it on the left side of his face, slowly dragging it back to the right side. As his fingers ran along his face, pieces of his mask had begun to consume his face, until he reached the opposite side, and the mask was fully on.

With a mighty battle cry, Darryl had charged Cogliostro, swinging his right fist with all of his might. Cogliostro caught his fist, but quickly pulled his hand back in pain. Blood dripped from Cogliostro's hand, as Darryl revealed that he transformed his glove into spikes. "Good, good! Now let out a blast!" Cogliostro egged Darryl on, who responded by cupping his hands together with his fingers curled, and pointing it straight toward Cogliostro. A green orb appeared in Darryl's palms, which increased in size. Once the orb reached the size of a softball, Darryl released the orb into a long ray of green necroplasmic energy. The undodgeable blast slammed into Cogliostro and pushed him off the rocky cliff, and propelled him far outward beyond what the eye could see. Once the blast stopped, and Cogliostro had vanished from sight, the mask left Darryl's face once more. "You are ready." Cogliostro appeared behind Darryl, completely unharmed and spoke into his now exposed ears. Darryl fell to his knees, slightly out of breath. Not so much out of physical exhaustion, as due to the fact that he ceased living nearly five months ago, the toxins which control the human bodies physical limits had long since expired. The reason for his lack of breath was more so out of bewilderment at both his own abilities and the abilities of his mentor, Cogliostro. The past five months of training in hell had turned him into a potential ruthless killer or perhaps an angel in demonic form. Only time would tell how he would use his powers now that Cogliostro was finally prepared to return him to the mortal world. All he knew was that his first plan was to extract some much deserved revenge, while protecting his loved ones. Cogliostro had agreed to send him to the exact day where his girlfriend was to be attacked, so that he would be able to protect her. And that time was now.

"Send me," was all Darryl had to say, as he straightened up and stood before Cogliostro. Darryl had not fully understood dimension travel, and thus could not release himself from Hell and back onto the mortal plane. With a wave of Cogliostro's hand however, the brimstone smell that Darryl had grown so accustomed to was replaced with the foul reek of human feces, and the scorching heat that licked his body for five months had taken a backseat to the gentle pitter-patter of light rainfall. Once Darryl regained his bearings, he scanned his surroundings. He found himself in an abandoned alley-way; several city blocks away from the large tower in the center of the city where Cogliostro had informed Darryl the attack would take place. He took one step forward, forcing rain up from under his boot and into the air, before another figure had landed in front of him.

The lanky figure stood in an odd stance, with the majority of his weight shifting between his left and right side, as if he couldn't keep still. It bore a mostly red costume, including full face mask, although there were black circles around the eye section of his mask, on the sides of his torso, on his gloves, and from his shoulders to his elbows. Two katanas rested on either side of his back, which bore red handles. "You know what; it depresses me to see more and more superheroes switching from primary colors to the night shades." The figure spoke with a unique voice, somehow sparking the image of granite and stone grinding against each other.

"I'm in mourning for what I'm about to do to you if you don't move the fuck out of my way!" Darryl was sure to place extra influence on the profanity, hoping to scare the slightly psychotic super being known as Deadpool out of his way. His threats however, fell on deaf ears.

"Kids, loser fan-boys, and friends of the author alike whom will be reading this, let me tell you something. It is never right to use profanity towards your elders. It's rude, crude, and downright mean…" Deadpool sounded generally sincere as he spoke, his face turned toward the sky causing Darryl to ponder whom he was talking to. "…but who gives a fuck about those old ass people? They're just going to die from exhaustion eating a piece of laffy taffy anyways! Besides, the more profanity you use, the cooler you get. And I don't mean those words like hell, because I mean come on. Children use hell all the time. I think it might have been Wolverine's first words. Sure, we all know his most used sentence is that he's the best at what he does, but thumb through an X-men comic for just a few seconds and see how many times he uses the word hell. Go ahead; I'll even wait for you." Deadpool then sat down, and pulled from his backside a warm cup of tea and stared at it briefly, not drinking it, but simply marveling at the steam it eluded. He then tossed the cup aside, and stood back up once more. "Two things folks. One, yes that is exactly where that cup came from. And it hurt like hell. But with enough KY jelly, anything is possible. And two…what was I talking about again? Oh yeah. Dear Wolverine…where do you get off? Automatically assuming your better at something, when no one even knows what the hell you do? Well, I've got one thing to say. Fuck you Wolverine, I'm better at whatever you're talking about, and if I'm not I'll gun down your next born child. Or sell it on eBay."

"Do you ever shut up?!" Darryl had grown annoyed at Deadpool's excessive talking. In fact, Deadpool had been talking to himself through the entire sentence that Darryl just shouted at him.

"I do shut up when I'm sleeping. Those are the quietest thirty seconds of my day." Deadpool stopped his banter to answer Darryl's question, and then continued talking to himself, seemingly asking someone whom he referred to as the author if he was capable of turning his speech into yellow font like his thought bubbles within the marvel world. His words confused Darryl, but he had no patience to try and discover what Deadpool meant by his comment.

"Well then…" Darryl ran his hand over his face, causing his mask to appear. "…I'll make you sleep, permanently."

"I don't know if I'm ok with that. See Family Guy comes on at nine, and it's a new episode. Ever since I drove to Ohio and came back slinging bullets all around my house, I haven't been able to get my TiVo working properly, so I won't be able to record it. And if I miss some of Stewie's shenanigans I might just die of loserism. You could just watch it with me though; I'll pop some popcorn and everything for you. But no touchy feely stuff, I'm just not that kind of guy."

"Just shut up!" Darryl charged at Deadpool, quickly swinging his right fist. Deadpool ducked the blow, and with a sweeping kick caused Darryl to fall upon his back. He sprung up back to his feet and performed a spinning kick with his right leg. Deadpool caught his foot however, and tossed Darryl into the sky. Darryl however, was able to regain his balance and his belt detached from himself. The chain flew at Deadpool, and wrapped itself around Deadpool's arms and legs. Once Darryl landed on the ground, Deadpool stopped squirming and began talking once more.

"I guess I have no choice. I guess I've got to show you what a real super saiyan can do!" Deadpool began screaming excessively, as if he expected some type of change in his strength to appear. He gave up, and instead performed a slow-rotating flip. The resulting g-forces unearthed Deadpool's katanas and allowed them to pierce the chain, ripping it down the middle. He grabbed the blades, and stood ready for combat. In response, Darryl allowed his cape to swirl around his hand, vanishing from his back, and forming a large demonic sword. The blade was pure black and for the hilt, one piercing green eye showed. Due to the large length and width of the sword, it resembled a Zweihander. Although the weapon was supposed to be used with two hands, Darryl's increased strength allowed him to fight with one hand instead. The two super beings charged each other, colliding their blades together multiple times, causing sparks to shoot out. Although Deadpool had the upper hand in unarmed combat, with blades they seemed to be at a standstill. Deadpool then jumped upward high into the air, and began spinning overtop of Darryl, simultaneously drawing twin machine guns and shooting downward at Darryl's head. To guard himself, Darryl held his sword over his head and spun it like helicopter propellers, causing the bullets to reflect off them.

"I've had enough!" Darryl cried out, as his blade transformed back into his cape and returned to his back. He held his right arm outward, palm out, and facing Deadpool. A green orb appeared in front of it, before he quickly fired it.

"Oh my god, its green apple laffy taffy! This is what kills old people!" Deadpool stood in place, as the green necroplasmic wave slammed into him, and propelled him away from the alley. "If you don't TiVo Family Guy for me, I'll rip your intestines out and feed them to Flipper the angry dolphin!" Deadpool's voice trailed off as he vanished from sight. Once Deadpool had left, Darryl focused all of his energies on the tower. Instantly, he felt the world around him vanish. Once his surroundings returned to him, he had been standing at the tower's door. Leaning against the door however, stood another figure. Besides being taller and bulkier, the figure appeared almost exactly like Darryl, besides key differences. Whereas Darryl's suit was only black and white, this hell spawn's suit had red, spiked gauntlets and shin guards. Also, Darryl's cape was collarless while the other hell spawn's cape was large and pointed, reaching past its head itself.

"Cogliostro is using you." The figure's deep voice spoke.

"Al Simmons. I'll deal with you another time. Obviously Cain isn't using me. Now move the hell out of my way before I blow you the fuck up." Giving Al Simmons, the other Spawn, no time to answer, Darryl simply shot out a quick blast of necroplasm at Al Simmons, whom responded with a blast of his own. The two blast battled each other for supremacy, with Al's blast winning, and blasting Darryl. He slid back a little, and quickly began charging another blast. However, Al had already left, leaving Darryl the single Spawn in the area. Quickly shrugging it off, Darryl kicked open the door of the tower, alarming an army of thugs surrounding a spiral staircase. All of them were dressed similar to the ones whom had killed him; wielding Ak-47's, all black sweat suits, and a black helmet. One by one, they turned to face Darryl with guns cocked. To defend himself, Darryl summoned his cape-formed Zweihander and charged into the group. It only took Darryl one run and a rapid swinging of his sword to tear through the army, leaving their blood splattered upon the walls, and leaving deep cherry stains upon the marble floor. Darryl then continued up the stairs, slashing anyone and anything that had gotten in his way. Once he reached the top, bloody sword in his right hand, he found himself face to face with the single surviving thug, holding Chelsie in hand. He quickly released her, and sprayed a full clip of bullets into Darryl's chest. Multiple bullet holes riddled Darryl's chest and torso, before instantly sealing up in a puff of steam. With one lunge, Darryl was upon the now cowering man, and drove his sword through the man's helmet and pierced the man's forehead. "You're safe now." Darryl spoke, allowing his sword to return to its cape form, and began to walk away.

"Wait! Is that you? Darryl?" Chelsie cried out. She hadn't changed much Darryl admitted to himself, much to his delight. Darryl said nothing, and only attempted to walk away once more. "It is you isn't it! Darryl, come back! Don't go, please!" Darryl turned to face her once more, and allowed his mask to vanish.

"Yes." Was all he could say to her. His mind raced with questions, as to what he might say to her. As he opened his mouth to speak however, a demonic figure appeared behind Chelsie and grabbed her by the mouth. It looked similar to the figure that Darryl decapitated right before he gained his powers, except crimson in color and much larger. "This has nothing to do with her! Let her go!" Darryl bawled his fist and his eyes began to glow green as he spoke.

"This is all by the grace of god." And with that, the creature vanished, leaving a screaming Darryl behind. He then stopped, focusing his thoughts, and stood at the side of the tower.

"Where? Where?! Where are you, damn it!" Darryl cried in fury, as his eyes shut. He had been attempting to sense the natural negative energy the being omitted as a demon, and once he finally locked on, he teleported toward it in a surge of necroplasmic energy. The resulting surge had destroyed the tower in his wake, as he found himself in a large, hollowed out cave. Once he arrived, Darryl quivered in horror as he watched the demon rip open Chelsie's torso and tore out her heart. His mask vanished, and he quivered, first in pain, and then in sheer rage. The sun which had been beaming down upon the city and the sky itself grew dark, as if there was an intense solar eclipse. Even in hell, the orange flames which danced around the realm grew black and purple.

"It has begun. All is going according to plan." Cogliostro spoke to himself down in hell. Meanwhile, back in the mortal plane, a change had begun to overtake Darryl. His eyes began glowing an unusual purple tone instead of green. On his suit, glowing purple streaks overtook the torso and extended to the shoulders of the arm. His cape vanished, and in its place, two demonic bat wings had formed. They were spiked, and almost seemed mechanical. A tail also grew upon Darryl's back. The tail was black with blades protruding from it, ending with a scythe like blade at the tip. Finally, Darryl's arms transformed from gloves into claws, with purple streaks within it.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Darryl cried out, as his teeth became sharp. His mask formed over his head once more, however this time it was conformed to his mouth, as if the mask itself had a mouth. Darryl leaned down so that he was standing on all fours, and let loose a blood-curdling roar. The roar's shockwave began to damage everywhere around the area, and four black tentacles emerged from Darryl's back. These four tentacles however, were alive and held teeth at the end, giving them the appearance of demonic eels.

"The power of sheer darkness…the power of sin, and the power hell has so desperately needed has been released." Cogliostro proclaimed, watching the events unfold from his throne in hell.


End file.
